


Christmas and the Rani

by Ankaret



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-13
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaret/pseuds/Ankaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at what might have been going on behind the scenes of <i>The Next Doctor</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas and the Rani

On the evening of 25 December 1851, there were two TARDISes in London. One had a broken chameleon circuit, and was parked in an alley; the other was disguised as a small hat-shop, and caused the end of Regent Street to jut out slightly further into the highway than anyone else remembered.

It was snowing gently, as a young woman let herself into the hat-shop.

Inside, it smelt of green things and fertile earth. Vines twined about the fluted walls, bearing toxic flowers. The young woman sank into a deep and respectful curtsey. She could see translucent pods racked in a quarter-circle around the dim far wall, containing more of her kind. "Mistress."

"You have returned, Rho-Zeta," said the cloaked lady at the helm.

"I have failed, Mistress." Her natural voice was cultured, and slightly breathy. "I attached myself to the decoy. I did my best to achieve transference, but – " She shook her bowed head. Her dark curls almost touched the TARDIS's breathing floor. "I did as you bid me, Mistress! I was resourceful, I was _feisty_, I chopped through ropes, I cuddled small children – "

"Did you remember the accent?" enquired her mistress.

"Cor, stone the crows, of course I remembered the accent, didn't I, guv?" said Rho-Zeta, slightly sulkily.

"And the pheromones?"

"I activated the pheromones every chance I got, and all that happened was that I had to slap the balloon-hand in the face. "

"There was no reaction at all from _him_?"

Rho-Zeta shook her head again. Snowflakes melted on her bare shoulder. "He looked straight _through_ me." She laid her forehead against the floor. It exhaled. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"And what do you suggest I do now?"

"Deactivate me, and make the attempt with Sigma-Eta," said Rho-Zeta matter-of-factly. "My blood and bones will nourish my soil-sisters."

"Not yet." The lady at the helm looked over at the furthest-along of the unopened pods. Inside it, a pale shape floated amongst red hair. "You may continue to assist me in tending your sisters – and brother, though I don't have much hope of him – whilst Sigma-Eta ripens. I have it in mind to see whether, in light of recent events, a Companion of more mature appearance will be more welcome. And I may yet make another attempt with you. The Doctor may warm to you more on _re_-acquaintance."

"What if he doesn't come back to London?" said Rho-Zeta. "He said he didn't like roast goose."

"He always returns to London," said the Rani dismissively. She took some readings. "The vortex has diminished; we can be away. Water your siblings. And take special care of Upsilon-Nu. I've noticed you stinting her on the bionutrients."

"We all hate Upsilon-Nu," muttered Rho-Zeta, taking her appointed place on the other side of the console. "Even through the skin of the pod, we can see her growing every day-cycle more perky yet sincere."

"Yes," said the Rani, and pushed the hood of her cloak back as a stem of crystalline light rose upward from the centre of the console. "I have great hopes of Upsilon-Nu."


End file.
